


Blood Is Thicker Than Water

by Heavenly_Pearl



Series: Family Bonds [1]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Manga), Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Family Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenly_Pearl/pseuds/Heavenly_Pearl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mizuno Ami deals with the toughest fight she's ever had to face: her parent's divorce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Is Thicker Than Water

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: "Sailor Moon" is the property of Takeuchi Naoko.

My parents were fighting again.

They always fought. Though they believed I couldn't hear them when they locked themselves in their bedroom for one of their daily screaming matches, the wall between our rooms was much thinner than they thought. No matter how hard I tried to block it out, I could hear everything. The voices may have been muffled and the words distorted, but the emotions being played out next door were perfectly clear, even to a second grader like me. Sometimes it scared me.

I couldn't remember the last time when my parents were actually truly happy. Of course, they tried to pretend everything was fine, that they were as much in love with each other as they were on their wedding day ten years ago, but they weren't fooling anybody, least of all, me. Otou-san always did say I was too mature for my own good. It made me long to be like the other girls sometimes. I envied their innocence. Their biggest fears were cootie-infested boys and loose teeth. They didn't have to worry about the possibility of their parents breaking up.

The shouts grew louder and louder as I sat down my pencil and rested my head on my desk, unable to concentrate on my math problems any longer. I wanted to cry, yet I didn't. Crying was a sign of weakness and immaturity. I needed to be strong. This was no time to be a baby, even if that was the very thing I wanted most. I wanted to run into okaa-san's arms and have her tell me that everything was going to be alright. I wanted otou-san to ruffle my hair and promise me that we would be together forever. I wanted us to go to the beach like we used to when I was younger and be a real family again. I wanted…

My parents' voices suddenly dropped, and I popped my head back up, sighing in relief. Was it over? Curious, I quietly walked over to the other side of the room and placed my ear against the blue-painted wall, holding my breath. At first, I couldn't hear anything. Then came the soft sobs and my father's deep bass voice quietly offering words of comfort. I gasped.

Okaa-san was crying. She never cried, not even when one of her patients died at the hospital, though I knew it affected her deeply. She was always the serious professional. It was otou-san who was the emotional one, a man with the delicate soul of an artist. Yet tonight he was the one comforting her.

At that moment, I knew it was over.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to burst through the dams I put up so long ago. I couldn't cry, not now. Crying was for babies. Though only seven, I was a child forced to grow up long before my time. I wasn't a baby anymore and this was no time to act like one.

Slowly, I dragged myself over to my desk, remembering I still hadn't finished my homework. My worksheet lay half-finished on the neatly organized surface, the numbers appearing as a blurry mass to my tear-filled eyes. However, I forced myself to sit down in the chair and to pick up my discarded pencil with a shaking hand. Apocalypse or not, homework always came first.

My classmates liked to tease me for being a bookworm, and maybe I was. It was true I enjoyed learning, although lately I had been using my schoolwork as a means to escape my unhappy home life, rather than as a source of enjoyment. I even begged my teachers to assign me extra book reports and math problems just so that I would have an excuse to stay at the library an extra hour after school, instead of going straight home and risk hearing another argument. Needless to say, I was making better grades than ever, earning the nickname "Ami the Genius" among my peers. Yet, my scholastic achievements meant nothing to me. What did it matter if 12 times 11 equaled 132 when in my house three divided by two was tearing me in half?

A soft knock on my bedroom door interrupted my concentration. I dropped my pencil and looked up to see my mother's tear-stained face peering in at me, my father standing right behind her. Okaa-san smiled sadly, but she wasn't fooling me. I knew why they were here.

"Ami-chan, can we talk to you for a minute?" she asked, her voice slightly cracking. "Otou-san and I have some very important news."

I nodded, watching with saddened eyes as both walked into my room and took a seat side-by-side on my neatly made bed. They were holding hands, and ironically, they never looked more like a married couple than they did at that moment, drawing strength from each other before they shattered their only daughter's world.

Playing innocent, I turned around in my desk chair to face my parents. "What is it, Okaa-san?"

My mother bit her bottom lip, for once uncharacteristically speechless. Very rarely did she not have something to say, whether it was reminding me to do my homework or complaining to my father about how he needed to get a real job, instead of working on his "silly" paintings all day long.

"It's okay, Saeko," Otou-san said. "I'll tell her."

He squeezed okaa-san's hand one more time before he kneeled down in front of me, taking my hands in his own. His were large and manly, covered with calluses earned from years of drawing and painting, and they contrasted starkly with mine, which were tiny and pale. At another time, his beautiful artists hands might have fascinated me, but not now. Instead I pulled my hands away from him, folding them in my lap. I didn't need his comfort.

Otou-san seemed surprised, but I think on some level he understood. He visibly swallowed before he finally said the words I had been dreading for the past three years.

"Mermaid, your mother and I are separating."

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The next few months comprised the darkest period in my life. The day after my parents informed me of the news, otou-san moved out of our penthouse apartment to the small cottage we owned in the woods outside Tokyo. Until the final custody arrangement was worked out, I was only allowed to visit him one weekend a month, a weekend which seemed all too short to a little girl who missed her father terribly. Of course, we talked on the phone every night, and occasionally he would convince my mother to let him take me out for dinner when he happened to be in town, but it just wasn't the same.

My mother was having a hard time dealing with the separation, though she tried her best not to show it by insisting that it was for the best and that she was glad he was finally out of her life. However, I knew she didn't mean it. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of her sobs coming from the other side of the wall, repeating "Yoshi" over and over to herself. She missed him, more than she would ever admit. Maybe even more than I did.

It might have been silly, and maybe even selfish on my part, but for the first few months after otou-san left, I was still hopeful that somehow they would be able to work through their problems and I would wake up one morning, only to find out that everything that had happened since that fateful day was just some horrible dream. Unfortunately, I never woke from my nightmare. It just got worse. Much, much worse.

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One day about eight months later, okaa-san drove me to the cottage for one of my scheduled weekend visitations with my father. I was unusually excited that day because otou-san promised he would take me swimming in the large lake in the middle of the woods. I loved to swim, and I even wore my favorite bathing suit underneath my regular clothes, wanting to go to the lake as soon as possible. However, my mother seemed tense. Her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too tight, and she kept staring straight ahead at the road, not even looking over when I showed her the drawing of a fish I drew for otou-san.

"That's nice, sweetheart," she replied distractedly.

I sighed, putting the picture back in my knapsack. Then I turned around in my seat to put the bag back on the back, for the first time noticing a large manila envelope stuck between the cushions of the leather seat. I struggled to reach it without unbuckling my seatbelt and held it up for my mother to see.

"Okaa-san, what's this?" I asked, shaking her arm so she would have to pay attention to me.

She finally looked over, taking the envelope from my hands and tossing it back where it was before. Okaa-san looked as if she wanted to cry, even wiping away what looked to be the beginnings of a tear from her dark blue eyes. "It's nothing, Ami-chan," she answered. "Just some patient files."

My mother never had been a good liar. It was one of the traits I inherited from her. I knew she wasn't telling me the truth about what was inside the mysterious manila envelope, but I decided not to push the subject anymore. She obviously didn't want to talk about it. Instead, I took the guide book out of the glove department and read the rest of the way to the cabin.

We reached the cottage about twenty minutes later. It wasn't very large, consisting only of two bedrooms, a bath, living room, and kitchen. It was even smaller than our Tokyo apartment, but I liked it. It felt cozy and warm. Not to mention that there was plenty of room to play outdoors when I wanted, without fear of being hit by a car or kidnapped by some sick stranger. Usually I had to walk to a park or playground if I wanted to play outside in Tokyo.

As my mother parked the car in front, I put away the book and quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, suddenly forgetting all about the envelope. Otou-san stood waiting on the porch, waving to us, and I couldn't wait to give him a great big hug. I grabbed my knapsack from the backseat and jumped out of the car, ignoring my mother's orders to help with the rest of my luggage.

"Otou-san!" I shouted, running up the stairs two at a time.

He took me in his open arms and picked me up, showering me with kisses while okaa-san got my suitcase and teddy bear from the trunk. "How's my little Mermaid?" he asked. "Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

"No, I missed you even more," I answered, burying my face in his shirt. He smelled faintly of aftershave, a scent I knew well.

Otou-san ruffled my short blue hair. "Not possible, kiddo. I missed you a thousand times more than you missed me."

I looked up and shook my head, kissing him again on the cheek. "I missed you an infinity times more."

"An infinity times more, eh? Have you been reading your mother's old college math books again? I guess I can't top that."

"Nope, you can't."

We smiled at each other, not noticing that okaa-san had joined us on the porch until she loudly cleared her throat. Otou-san slowly put me down, his grin disappearing as I went to gather the rest of my things from my mother.

"Hello, Saeko."

Okaa-san curtly nodded. "Yoshi."

The tenseness between them was unmistakable, although there was also a slight look of sadness reflected in both my parents' eyes. A blanket of silence fell over us. I alternatively looked at both of them, waiting for one of them to say something, anything at all, but both were avoiding whatever it was that was causing so much pain. Somehow, I suspected it was whatever was inside the manila envelope okaa-san was holding in her hand.

Finally, I tugged on my father's sleeve. "Otou-san, can we go swimming now?"

"In a minute, Mermaid. Your mother and I need to talk about something very important."

Okaa-san smiled sadly. "Yes, sweetheart, otou-san and I need to talk. Why don't you go to your room and unpack? He'll take you swimming later."

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly.

Otou-san opened the front door of the cabin for me and I went inside, my parents following at my heels. They slipped into the kitchen for some privacy while I slowly walked to my bedroom, dragging my large suitcase behind me on the floor.

Entering my bedroom, I found that it looked exactly the way I left it last time, save for a new painting hanging on the wall. Placing the suitcase on my bed, I smiled at the portrait of a blue-haired mermaid, recognizing my father's work. He always liked to surprise me with a new piece every time I came over to visit, which he let me take home as a reminder of our weekends together. At our apartment in Tokyo, my room was practically an art gallery, every wall covered with his beautiful artwork. I wasn't even sure where I would find a place to hang this one, but I would worry about that later.

Carefully, I climbed on the bed and took down the small painting, wanting to show it to okaa-san before she left. I knew she would like it. She might have thought otou-san was wasting his life with his art, but even she couldn't deny he was talented. I decided to go to the kitchen to show her, forgetting all about unpacking my things.

They were still talking when I approached the kitchen, their voices low and earnest. It was a far cry from the shouting matches I used to hear every night coming from their bedroom. I hesitated opening the door, not wanting to interrupt, but my curiosity got the best of me once again. I quietly opened the door a crack and peeked inside.

My parents were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, okaa-san drinking a glass of green tea as she watched otou-san sign the stack of papers laying in front of him. I frowned, wondering what they were doing. Their conversation had come to a standstill the second I opened the door, though I doubted they noticed I was trying to eavesdrop. If they did, they didn't visibly acknowledge it.

"Is that everything?" my father finally said, signing the last page and setting down his pen.

Okaa-san nodded, taking the papers. She placed them back in the manila envelope and addressed the front. "I'll send this to the attorney when I get back to Tokyo to make sure everything is in order, but I don't foresee any problems."

Reaching across the table, my father took my mother's hand and sighed. "It's really over, isn't it, Saeko?"

"I'm sorry, Yoshi."

"Me, too."

I didn't wait to hear anymore. The painting I held in my hand crashed to the floor, and I ran out the front door, faintly hearing okaa-san call out my name before the door slammed shut behind me.

I sprinted as fast as I could through the woods surrounding the cottage, not really knowing where I was going, only that I needed to get away from them and those papers in the manila envelope. How could they do this to me? This wasn't supposed to happen. My parents were supposed to be together forever. The separation was only a minor setback, meant to show them how much they really did love each other underneath all the yelling and the fighting. They weren't supposed to get a divorce!

Finally tired of running, I slowed down and caught my breath, wondering where I was. I looked around, surprised to discover I was at the lake. The clear blue waters beckoned to me like the siren's song to a sailor, and I walked over to the lake's edge, looking down at my reflection in the water. She was such a sad little girl…

A single drop of water fell into the lake, distorting my reflection as tiny circular ripples cut through the surface. At first, I thought it was beginning to rain, but when I took another look in the water mirror once the ripples had disappeared, I could see I was crying. Another teardrop fell from my face and dropped into the late. And then another. And then another, until I fell to my knees and began to sob.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know how long I cried that afternoon. To me, it seemed as if the tears would never stop. All the emotions I had held inside for the past eight months came bursting through the dams I had built and drowned me in their misery. I didn't even have the strength to swim against the racing current. I simply just let myself go, tired of being so strong. I was a child, and it was time for me to cry like a child.

"Ami-chan!"

"Mermaid!"

My parents' voices called out to me in the distance, but I didn't answer. Instead, I hugged my dirty knees to my chest, wishing they would leave me alone. Didn't they know they were the cause of my pain? I didn't want to see them like this. Not now.

But a few minutes later, I could hear the sound of footsteps coming up behind me, stopping about three feet away from where I sat. I didn't look up; I didn't need to. I knew it was my parents by their reflections in the water mirror.

"Mermaid…" my father said, finally kneeling down beside me to give me a hug.

I sniffled loudly and scooted away. "Leave me alone," I shouted. "I know you signed the divorce papers today. You didn't even try to work things out. You didn't even try!"

Otou-san sighed, again reaching out for me. This time, I allowed him to hold me, sobbing into his paint-stained shirt. He started rocking me back and forth as if I were a baby, whispering soft words of assurance, as okaa-san too kneeled beside us in the dirt, running her healing hands through my hair. There was something about that scene that was so comforting, even though I knew it would never happen again. For the last time, we were a family, and I would never forget that moment for as long as I live.

Eventually, I calmed down, my sobs lowering to a whimper. Otou-san stopped rocking me, though he continued holding me close, and lifted my chin so I could look into his dark green eyes. "I'm sorry, Mermaid," he apologized. "We're both sorry. We did try, truly we did, but in the end…"

"…we were just too different," my mother said, completing otou-san's sentence. "You understand, don't you, sweetheart?"

I nodded. I did understand, even if I didn't like it. My parents were complete opposites. Okaa-san was a workaholic doctor who liked things to be neat, organized, and planned to a T, while my father was a slightly absent-minded artist who preferred to let life take him where he was going, instead of planning every single minute of every single day. Their personalities didn't compliment each other at all. But still…

Taking the handkerchief okaa-san handed him, otou-san wiped away my remaining tears. "It'll be okay, Mermaid. I promise."

"What's going to happen?" I asked once I began to accept the idea that my parents' marriage was really over.

Okaa-san took my hand, squeezing it lightly. "Well, your father will be staying here at the cottage, and you and I will remain at the penthouse. We thought it would be best so you wouldn't have to leave your school and friends."

"Will I be able to see otou-san?"

"Of course, Ami-chan," she assured me. "He's your father and nothing will ever change that. Blood is thicker than water, after all. I would never keep you two apart."

Otou-san smiled, ruffling my hair. "Yeah, Mermaid. You won't get rid of me that easily. We're bonded for life. You're welcome here whenever you like, as long as your mother agrees. And I'll visit you in the city sometime. We'll tour the museums, eat sushi at that great place by the bay, swim at the pool, maybe even go to a festival or two. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"I can't wait," I replied, giving him a hug. I was glad we could still be together, even if otou-san and okaa-san weren't.

The three of us sat in silence for a while, watching as the sun set behind the trees, painting the normally blue sky with a palette of red, oranges, and pinks. Nobody wanted to ruin the moment, knowing when it ended, so did our family. However, okaa-san finally stood and dusted the dirt off the back of her pants. I looked up, wondering where she was going.

"Okaa-san?"

She smiled softly. "I have to go, sweetheart. It's getting dark, and you know how much I hate driving at night."

"No, don't go," I pleaded, jumping up to wrap my arms around her waist as my father got up as well. "I don't want you to leave."

"Yes, Saeko, don't leave," otou-san echoed. "It's already dark. Let's go back to the cottage, and I'll fix dinner. You can stay the night in our old room, and I'll sleep on the couch."

Okaa-san bit her lip. "I don't want to be a bother, Yoshi."

"It's not a problem at all. Please say you'll stay."

"Please, okaa-san," I begged. "Just for tonight."

Sighing, she finally agreed, taking the hand I offered her. Otou-san took the other, and we started to walk back to the cottage.

"But only for tonight."

Tonight was all I needed. One night to be a family again.


End file.
